


unburdened

by postfixrevolution



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Introspection, past/implied relationships, this is not a shippy fic bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe this time it was unwittingly, but the princess still managed to cut off her could-be prince— just like every other could-be and would-be and maybe and friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unburdened

Once upon a time there was a princess. She was beautiful, adventurous, lucky, and strong. 

Her name? Well, it certainly wouldn't be much fun if you knew, now would it? 

She was a princess in the core meaning of the word, even if she didn't wear exquisite silk gowns or sing with the animals every morning. She lived in a castle and was above many others in rank. Instead of a crown sitting atop her head, she had two horns, the tips as wicked and deadly as her quick wit and silver tongue. This girl was a princess not because of her exemplary kindness and generosity, but because of her situation and how she handled it with a graceful control and effortless skill. 

She lived with her mother and no father. Her mother demanded much of her, and like the loyal daughter she was, the princess obliged. She cared not for the lives of the many below her, because it simply was not in her nature to do so. No, she was not your traditional princess. This one was exacting and sharp as her glinting fangs. And while this princess lived mostly alone, she still had her knight and her handmaid and the select few she chose to associate herself with. 

Her knight, in actuality, was a prince. He came from royal blood and acted it thoroughly. But, prince or knight, she did not love him, and neither did he with her. He helped her take what she needed to keep her mother satisfied and he was allowed his share to take to his own mistress. A friend, he called her, but the princess easily knew who was the higher one of the two. They kept each other out of necessity, and when necessity no longer bothered the orphaned princess, she tossed him away without a second thought. Not a thought was wasted on why she needed him, nor what it really was in him that she had so long failed to see. No, he was another rope holding her back and so, she cut him off. 

Her handmaid was so impossibly patient. She was calculating without the harshness and calm without the simmering frustration underneath. The princess both envied her and was relieved by her presence because she would deal with her. Her handmaid would tolerate her presence more genuinely than anyone else had ever done and when the princess was by herself, she's question why. It was unfair how someone lower than her could be that much better than her. So, in the aftermath and adrenaline of cutting off her first tie to reality, the princess cut off her handmaid, too. 

There was another, an unnamed, that once found herself caught in the princess's tangled web. She saw without seeing and, with that, was able to wiggle herself free. This girl used to stay with the princess, the two of them inseparable, laughing side by side as they dauntlessly treaded across the thin lines of the princess's web, uncaring of the dangers lest one of then fall. Once, the princess even called themselves sisters, trying to force the other to stay equal with her because she wasn't allowed to be better. The other accepted the title with a grin, but paid no heed to the equality the princess thought the title entailed. And much like her other ties, this sister was cut off, quickly and efficiently, and she didn't see it coming. 

Another boy, too, was a part of her company. Some could say that he was her prince, but he was not. No, he was far from it. He came from far below her in so much more than just rank and they both knew it. He was weak, and to someone that held themselves so high, that was so, very pitiable. He could never save her, even if he could attain the courage to do so. The princess constantly taunted and poked at him and thought that she loved him as she fed off his insecurities and clawed at his mind. She knew that he feared her and tried to ignore the fact until he somehow stood up to her and shoved it right back in her face. As expected, he was cut off too, disposed of with the speed and efficiency of a knife through the chest. 

Soon enough, the princess was almost free, with no ropes to pull her back, save for one. 

He could have been her prince, if the princess was not already too numb from all the other ties she had already cut. He was different; he didn't know about her messy past, didn't expect anything of her. She didn't have to be a princess around him. A childish innocence, so pure and unfiltered, filled him and she found that she didn't want that part of him to be tainted. So she promised that she would make him stronger, and she did. The girl that was not a princess could have loved him, but when he met her face to face, she couldn't be anything except that. Maybe this time it was unwittingly, but the princess still managed to cut off her could-be prince— just like every other could-be and would-be and maybe and friend. 

The princess was left completely liberated of the ropes that had once held her down, and she was free. She did with her newfound freedom whatever she wanted and relished in the rush of it all. With a reckless abandon, she tore her path through the land, unburdened and unbound. When the adrenaline had faded, though, the princess found herself alone. The ones she used to call friends didn't reach out a hand to her because they knew just what happened when they tried to get close. Staring at the frayed end of her severed ropes, the princess felt regret. 

You think perhaps now would be a good time to give her a name. Is that so? Fine, for the sake of this story, why don't we call this princess _Rapunzel_. Why? Well, let us continue. 

Our so-called Rapunzel had built herself a tower of lies and destruction with no entrance or exit and surrounded it with a moat of false words and promises. Many a people had tried to pull her back down to earth, but her pride had gotten the best of her as she chopped her long, blonde hair off. And so that is where she was left, distanced from everyone else, yet living freely and unimpeded in the clouds. 

That is where our story ends and that is why she was given the name Rapunzel. 

Now, is this whole story true? 

Of course not. 

After all, Vriska Serket isn't a blonde.


End file.
